


Lost In Translation

by OcyDarling



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Victorian, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OcyDarling/pseuds/OcyDarling
Summary: Quentin, a prince from Earth has been displaced by a mysterious force and has found himself in a strange world. Thankfully the King there is a little nicer than the Queen.





	Lost In Translation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for stopping in. I've wrote fics before, but I've never done a magicians one so i'm a little nervous. I hope you enjoy the au and such! Just some key points to touch on first. It's not historically right at all. uh so quentin's from england here, his royalty, but from earth. margo and eliot aren't and the fillory laws by ember and umber have changed drastically. especially for them to be on the throne. i think that's it but please enjoy!

When he was growing up, Quentin read stories of knights and dragons. He wanted to believe a life like that could be achievable rather than having to live the life his mother wanted of him. She found him a nice girl to marry. ‘Quentin, the courts are talking. You haven’t taken a wife and they worry on who’s going to be in charge. Alice is a nice fit, I promise. She’ll make a perfect wife.’ He didn’t want marriage and he didn’t want something with someone he didn’t know. Alice was lovely and seemed to be on board with the arranged marriage, but Quentin didn’t have the heart to say anything. He hated he was going to be forced to live this life. He wanted to go on an adventure.

So waking up to a mouthful of mud wasn’t what he meant by going on an adventure. Confusion washed over him as he slowly started pushing himself up. A forest and not to mention a forest he didn’t recognize all too well. He was fell asleep in his bed last night, so there isn’t a reason for him to be out here. Unless he was kidnapped! Panic replaced the confusion very quickly as he got himself up on his feet. He needed to find his way out.

The surroundings is what threw him off. Despite growing up in a castle most of his life, he did escape to the woods to get away from everyone once in a while. There were flowers he didn’t recognize, sounds of birds he’s never heard, and the something was making him feel lightheaded. He brought his hand up to his head, inspecting it for any bumps. Deciding nothing seemed off, he just pushed aside the feeling. He did sleep outside after all. It was probably that. 

Great, he was outdoors in nothing but his nightshirt, wet and covered in mud. He was terrified, but he was going to have to start walking to try and find someone who could help him. Being barefooted was maybe the worst of his problems. He had already stubbed his toe, tripped, and then landed in more mud before getting himself more lost than he already was. This wasn’t turning out to be the best of mornings. Quentin still picked himself up and trekked on. 

It wasn’t long that he emerged from the forest, finding a dirt road. Well, roads always lead to somewhere. Wouldn’t hurt following it, unless it got him killed. Bandits, bears...bees. No, he had to find someone to help him. He needed to get back home before his mother sent out the guards to find him. That would be a lot worse than dying out in the wilderness. His mother already sees him as a failure and he didn’t need this to be something to wreck his reputation with her. 

Even though his whole plan was to walk along the road until he was able to find someone or come across a town, Quentin wasn’t brave enough. He stayed inside the forest, but just close enough to the road where he could see it and far enough that he’d be sheltered. There was a voice in the back of head saying this was all a joke by someone who’s kidnapped him and they were only going to let him go so far. Well, that was until he came across something rather strange. 

First it was the lightheadedness and now he was watching someone talk to a bear, who was responding back as they stacked wood onto a cart. His back straightened and he picked up the pace of his walk. It was his brain playing tricks on him, that’s all. This was just a trick his head was playing on him, trying to get him to sit down and take a break because he hit his head. “They’re going to think I’m crazy. I’m in my nightgown, muddy, and speaking about talking bears.” A nervous chuckle came from him as he started pulling his hair from his face out of a nervous habit. Everything was going to be just fine.

And it was as if the god above heard him when he saw what looked like buildings in the distance. It felt like he’d been walking forever. His legs were aching from the times he tripped, feet cold and hurting from the mud. Quentin sucked it up and upped his pace to get to this village a little faster. Someone there must have known who he was and could help him out! Quentin started straightening his hair out the best he could. It had random twigs and leafs he had to pull from its tangled strands. 

He was about to cross the threshold to the village when he finally got a glimpse of the townsfolk. They were dressed oddly, nothing like the people he was used to. Shit, shit, shit! He started going back into the brush until he was roughly grabbed on his upper arm. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Quentin turned, startled. What was that accent? It was so harsh, but that wasn't the point! “I-I don't understand. I'm lost. Where am I?” His stuttering he worked so hard to get rid of returned, scared. This man must have been a guard...or a bandit! Quentin started trying to get out of his grip, but alas the man was much stronger.

“The king doesn't care for spies! You're coming with me and explaining yourself. We've already caught your friend from Loria. Let's go!” He tightened his grip on Quentin's arm, pulling him out from the brush and into the streets for people to see him. He had given up trying to get away. This had to be a dream and he was just going to accept it. That's what he gets for wishing for adventure in his life. 

The townsfolk were pointing and whispering among themselves as he was being dragged along to the Castle. He overheard things like barbarian and unfortunate soul. He was considered a prince! This wasn't fair and it was out of line! The guard must have gotten tired of dragging Quentin because the moment he let go, the man's spear came behind Quentin and smacked him on the rear. “Get walking spy.” He was obedient and went I front, listening to the guard whenever an ordered was barked. This was a dream why was he listening to anyone, but the one thing that threw him off was everyone lacked his accent. How could he create something so complex?

Quentin knew they had reached the palace area once the surroundings were getting pristine. The palace in the distance was also a dead give away and not to mention the massive statue of a younger man was looming over him. Their king possibly? He had a sword and a hand outstretched with a flame burning in his palm. He must have been staring for too long because an impatience swat hit Quentin again. “Scared? You better be.” Laughter came from the guard, amusing himself with the threats. Quentin took one more last look at the statue before heading across the bridge. Hell, he hoped he could convince this king about his situation. Maybe then he could wake up.

As they reached the doors, the guard returned to his side, gripping on his arm yet again. “I found a spy lurking around in the woods. We got reports about him. Alert the King and Queen.” The much shorter and younger guard saluted and rushed inside with his urgent message. It wasn't long after that the large doors opened for them. Please wake up please. It's just a dream. You'll be in your bed soon, Quentin. The guard manhandled him inside, nearly dragging him at this rate. If it wasn't for the situation, Quentin would be admiring the inside of the palace. It was strangely ethereal, nothing he had seen before even in his own home. It was almost magical. 

They finally stopped walking for a final time. Large doors loomed over him, but it was a bit more intimidating than the statue outside. “Better start praying to Ember. You'll need it.” Was all the guard said before opening the doors for Quentin. Daylight poured through blinding him and causing him to shield his eyes as he was shoved forward. 

“My majesties I'm sorry to interrupt your day, but I have brought a spy!” Quentin's eyes adjusted just as a voice responded, a woman's. “So your first idea is to bring him to the castle and show him around? Are you that much of a dumbass? Why is our help so fucking stupid!” The last sentence was directed to someone else. Such harsh language shocked Quentin. If this was a royal court why was, what he was assuming, the queen speaking as such. His eyes were adjusting and finally saw the two seated in thrones. The woman with an up do hair style and an eyepatch was gritting her teeth, nearly out of her chair.. The male who bore a striking resemblance to the statue outside, just in a different outfit. It was eerie how much he and the statue looked the same. Perfection would be a word to describe it. He cleared his throat before he spoke. 

“Now shush,” a hand came out, quickly resting on the woman's hand, but was pulled away almost instantly, “If he was a spy would he be so….hmm nervous? He doesn't seem like one even the last Lorian spy we caught was a lot cleaner and blended in well.” The man rose from his chair, looking much taller than he appeared and started crossing over to Quentin. Of course protests came from the guards and the woman at his side hopped up. 

He ignored them, a small smile playing on his lips. “Please, I'm all ears to why you were sneaking around.” He stopped in front of Quentin, hands clasped in front of him as he stared down, waiting for an answer. 

Nerves went through him. The king up close was a lot to take. “Um. I don't know what Lorian thing is. I'm Prince Quentin of Wales. I'm not sure what is going on. If this is some cruel scheme to have my mother arrange a marriage it won't work!” Quentin was being given a chance here and he wanted to make sure they knew he was serious. Which was a little ballsy, but he wanted to be tough! 

A dumbfounded look appeared on the king's face, and eyebrow even raising. “Wales? Is that a newer country past Loria? Is it even in Fillory?” The man turned a bit, addressing the queen. “Wherever it's at they obviously aren't aware of baths!” She chipped back with. 

“No it's in England on Earth? Have you all gone mad?” He responded back quickly since they all wanted to gang up on him. This was ridiculous but he must have said something off because the man's face went white along with the queen's. Everyone in the court went quiet and then instantly started whispering. “A child of earth like the legend!” Could be overheard. The king raised a hand, silencing them. “Prince Quentin of Earth, please forgive myself and my kingdom. We're honored to have you here and if you would kindly accept my offer, I would like to have you stay here for a while to answer some questions.” 

The whole aura of the room changed. He was confused. They didn't want to kill him but talk to him? The king was even treating him like he was above him. It made his head spin even more than it already was. “I would like to wash off if that's too much to ask before we do that.” Was what he responded with. This seemed to be real and if this was his new reality he would have to cope with it. The king smiled and closed the gap between them. “Yes, of course!” With that, he had an arm, very lightly mind you, around Quentin's shoulders to guide him to a door to the left. That was it? He couldn't believe how everything was going down. Oh his mother would be rightfully pissed now. Her son wasn't even in the same world! 

As the door closed behind them, more expletives were coming from the throne room, muffled, but filed with anger. “I'm sorry you had to come face to face with Bambi’'s scary bitch wrath the first time you arrived here.” The king's persona completely changed going completely casual. Quentin was of course confused and staring up at him with a look of dumbfoundedness across it. “Uh…” 

“Shit! No ones introduced anyone!” Servants quickly opened the doors to the private baths as they both headed inside. “I'm Eliot,” he stopped in front of Quentin, “high king of Fillory and the spitfire was Margo, high queen.” Quentin could see the excitement in his eyes. Whatever this child of earth nonsense was it seemed very important to the high king, Eliot. Quentin adjusted on his feet, the pain finally getting to him. “Um bath first? I've had a very bad day.” He tucked his hair behind an ear and crossed his arms. He hoped the baths were decent here and hoped for a change of clothes. 

Eliot led him into a bathroom finally. “Here, you can use my personal bath. I'll send for a change of clothes. Please let the servants know when you're finished.” He smirked, glancing down at the gown. “I would stay and help, but unfortunately I need to talk to Bambi. We'll get another chance.” He slinked off after that, leaving Quentin shocked. Was that flirting? Did he just FLIRT with him? His face had turned red when the bath was ready and the servant stuck his head out. “Sir it's ready.” 

The bath let him think. He scrubbed and felt like his skin was raw at the end of it, but he was thankful for the peace and quiet to allow him to think.This day had ended up insane. First lost clothes, then seen as a spy, and now some famous thing being nearly worshipped. It freaked him out. Okay, he needed to continue talking to this high king. Quentin climbed out and toweled himself dry. There was a set of fine clothes folded on a chair nearby. When was this dropped off? No matter, he started dressing himself. He was able to look like his normal self and was even able to pull his hair back. He was never going to take advantage of things in his life after this. Quentin felt more regal in these clothes than he ever had while as a Prince. The quality and deep rich blues impressed him. This Kingdom really was something.

Poking his head out, Quentin startled the servant. “Ah I'm sorry. Um could you let king Eliot know I'm ready and would like to continue ou4 conversation?” The male nodded and headed back outside. This gave Quentin a chance to exit the room and start pacing. What if they killed him! What if he wasn't this destined person that was suppose to show up? He started over thinking, giving himself a headache.  
.  
“I can hear you thinking.” Eliot's voice startled him and was even more startled by how close he was standing. Quentin gasped a little before backing slightly away. “Uh okay I'm ready to talk and it seems you are too.” The king nodded happily, happy that this was working out. Quentin was going to attempt to ignore the passion and heat in Eliot's eyes and continue with what he needs to discuss. 

“What questions do you have Eliot? I can try to answer them as best as to my ability.”


End file.
